


One Ticket to Smoochville, Please

by xwynn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, a bunch of oneshots centered around KISSING, from some tumblr prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 06:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11374068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xwynn/pseuds/xwynn
Summary: A series of different types of kisses that all share one thing: bokuroo.Chap 1: Kuroo doesn't want to go to work. Bokuto is making him go. They manage to compromise.Chap 2: Maybe the joke all along was the boyfriends (and kisses) they made along the way.Chap 3: Kuroo looks really good playing on the court. Bokuto just wants to make sure he's aware of it.





	1. Go to Work, Ya Lazy Bum

**Author's Note:**

> Dumping the kissy prompts I did on tumblr a few months back on here for convenience and whatnot. 
> 
> This one I filled for my good friend/love of my mcfucking life GG and the prompt was: "lazy morning kisses before they've even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up"

Kuroo does not like mornings. Kenma knows this. Yaku knows this. Anyone who has ever heard the name ‘Kuroo Tetsurou’ even in passing knows this. 

But most of all, Bokuto knows this. 

He hears the alarm goes off. Barely registers it, stirring slightly in his sleep, but Bokuto does hear it. Also hears (with much relief) its silencing. 

He’s almost completely back to sleep when he notices the problem. There is  _too_  much silence. 

“Work,” Bokuto mumbles, its slurred and spoken more into the pillow under his head than anything but he knows he hears it. 

Bokuto knows he hears it cause he wouldn’t sleep that ridiculous fucking way and his hair wouldn’t be such a mess if he didn’t virtually hear everything in this world. 

So he says it again, a little bit clearer this time. A little bit sterner too. “Tetsu…” pauses, yawns, starts again with eyes still closed. “gotta go to work.” 

Kuroo mumbles this time. Digging his face into the pillow even further to avoid the morning light coming through the blinds. “-on’t wanna,” he says, sounding like a child rather than a mature adult.

Bokuto feels Kuroo’s latching onto him. Its a lazy action, hands fumbling under the covers until he finds his arm, then his hip, and practically slides his body over the sheets until Kuroo is wrapped around him. Kuroo’s got his face buried in the crook of Bokuto’s neck, his breath even and slow, attempting to fall back asleep, and Bokuto is barely able to hear his voice. Only able to catch the words “with you” and nothing else. 

And its really  _really_ hard to deny Kuroo that. Deny himself that. Definitely when its Bokuto’s own off day. A day where they could both just laze about and enjoy the comfort of each other’s presence. 

But…..but….

“You need money,” Bokuto tells him, pushing the lanky body clinging to him away with an incredible amount of self discipline. 

Kuroo is grumbling under his breath, not even saying anything in particular, just making whiny little noises as he’s forced away and it truly is adorable really. But the fact of the matter still stands.

“ _We_ need money,” Boktuo adds and yeah it was kinda wrong of him to remind Kuroo that they’re both just a couple of broke young adults trying to make it in a fast paced Tokyo but hey - its got Kuroo’s eyes to open up so it can’t be that bad. 

Kuroo frowns at him. His eyes are squinted, bleary but accusatory, but its progress. Then his face shifts into something softer. (Something that looks a lot like puppy eyes.) 

He’s scooting closer, recovering the spot he had before Bokuto pushed him away,and soon his lips are almost touching Bokuto’s, just a hairbreadth away. Whispering “please” so softly that Bokuto feels it more than he actually hears it and he feels himself give in a little. 

Feels Kuroo’s lips on his, pressing against him with soft firmness. Feels his eyes slip close again, feels himself melt into that single touch despite his best efforts and  _oh_  how he wants this. Wants to just lay there in bed with Kuroo, wrapped around each other til the sun stops shining so brightly. Til the world forgets about them and they forget about it. 

But they have to. He has to. So that they can have this, way way into the future, when they’re old and gross and wrinkly with bones that are too tired to work any longer. 

Bokuto pushes on Kuroo’s shoulders, pushing him away once more and he doesn’t dare open his eyes this time. Doesn’t dare a look at Kuroo’s face cause he knows if he does he’s done for, whatever little bit of resolve he’s still clinging to will be wiped away. “No,” he says, forcing it out of himself, “you gotta go.” 

But Kuroo is chasing him again. More intent this time. A little bit more passionate. A little bit more lively when he kisses him again. Its languid, and slow, sleep still in their muscles. Their lips are slightly chapped but Bokuto thinks he could lose himself for an eternity in the feeling of those kisses. 

Kuroo presses their mouths together, huffing out “lemme stay” with every exhale. As much as Bokuto wants to, never wants Kuroo to leave ever, wants to wrap them up in the cocoon of their blankets - somebody’s gotta go to work. Somebody has to be the responsible one around here. 

Bokuto curls up, knees coming up to his chest as he plants his feet on Kuroo’s naked torso, and that certainly has Kuroo jolting back. He’s instantly moving away from Bokuto’s absurdly cold toes, telling him how this is so “unfair” and how he “doesn’t deserve this” but he’s finally moving out of the bed nonetheless. 

Bokuto pulls the blankets tight around him again, the top of his head just peeking out of the top. Around a final yawn and a smack of his lips Bokuto sleepily calls out, “Have a good day.” Receiving only a rough hum of acknowledgement in reply as Kuroo officially starts his day. 

(And if Kuroo kisses his head, saying something along the lines of “I love you” Bokuto doesn’t mention it when he comes back home.)


	2. Jokes on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this was: a gentle “i love you” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss

They try to make a joke of it. Just to make things easier. Just to ease the ache.

Bokuto is gone more often than Kuroo actually remembers to visit his parents. Which is to say that he is gone quite a lot.

He’s gone at volleyball games at countries far far away. He is gone at intensive training camps on the other side of Japan. He is gone at worlds away, making dreams into reality, and Kuroo is at home.

It was not reasonable for Kuroo to follow Bokuto around the world. Nor did he want to. Kuroo has goals too. They may be smaller, more localized dreams but they exist and Bokuto supports him in his actions just as Kuroo does in his.

It’s not easy being separated for so long. Kuroo always makes sure to tune into his games whether on his laptop or on the TV. Sometimes the entirety of the former teams of both Nekoma and Fukurodani are at his house; drinking beer, laughing at stupid jokes, screaming in a frenzy all for number 4.

It is not easy being seperated for so long but they make it work. Kuroo calls him after work. Bokuto sends back postcards. And there’s skype on weekends.

It is definitely not easy but when Bokuto comes back home it is worth it. It is always worth it.

And so the joke goes like this:

Kuroo sits on the couch, flipping through channels. Scrolling through his phone. Staring at a book. Anything. Anything to distract himself from counting down the hours, minutes, seconds until Bokuto’s plane touches down.

Then the door handle jiggles, the sound of keys can be heard on the other side, and Kuroo pops off the couch like a freshly popped kernel.

Two seconds. It takes all of two seconds and the door is opened.

“Where have you been?” Kuroo asks.  He can’t help the smile that forms on his face. This is the joke after all.

Bokuto sets his luggage down. Kicks the door close. His eyes are shining in the light from the living room, bright and lively. “I was out. At the store.”

Kuroo takes two steps. It’s not a huge room. He’s got long legs. Two steps is all he needs to close the distance. Or maybe he’s really just that eager. “You took too long,” he chides.

“I had to stop by a friend’s. I got caught up, I’m sorry.” Bokuto is already tugging on his shirt, tugging him close, until they’re flush together. Face to face. Nose to nose.

Kuroo couldn’t forget this face. They say you never forget how to ride a bike once you learn but to hell with that. He could get on a bike right now and he’d probably fall off.

But those eyes, the slope of that nose, the curve of those lips in that bright, bright smile - Kuroo could never forget that. Has that face etched into memory. Carved into his thoughts like monuments into stone.

He doesn’t need to be reminded of what Bokuto looks like. But seeing him again, in the flesh, instead of behind a computer screen is something that he’s wished for since they last separated. He doesn’t need to be reminded what his voice sounds like too . It plays in his head, looping over and over, like a broken record that he just refuses to fix. But hearing it, instead of filtering through his phone, is something that he cherishes, something that is more precious to him in this world than anything else.

“I’ve missed you asshole,” Kuroo tells it to his lips. Presses it there.

“Me too. Missed you. A lot.” Bokuto’s not speaking coherently anymore. Got his fingers tapping on Kuroo’s side, hand hiding under his shirt. He’s restless but then again, so is Kuroo.

He has a dozen things he wants to say.  A dozen things he wants to hear. Tell Bokuto about the kids he’s been working with at the school. About how the old team is doing. About this new shop that opened up just a block away. Wants to hear how Boktuo’s team is. How he’s doing, how he’s feeling, how did he like the countryside. What did he hear, see, smell, touch, everything- Kuroo wants to know everything.

He wants that. He is going to do that. But first he wants this, wants just this simple thing of comfort.

And so he is kissing him, hands reaching up to cradle his face, smoothing his thumb over the skin. It is chaste and sweet and Bokuto’s lips are soft in the same way that Kuroo has often dreamed about.

“I missed you,” he says it again, voice low in a barely heard whisper, pressing his lips to the corner of Bokuto’s mouth. “I  _love_  you.”

And these are the things of simple truths. Of facts and not so hushed secrets. Out in the open for everyone to see, unabashed and unashamed because Kuroo has never been shy when it comes to him. Would let the world know how he feels about this man if it only so much as asked to know.

And these are things of closed doors. Of ‘do not enter’ signs, of secret smiles and locked entrances.

Kuroo is capturing Bokuto’s lips once more, heady and desperate, sliding a hand to his arm and gripping it there. They are stumbling back - back, back, back - into the door and the hand that Bokuto had on Kuroo’s hip is now bruising. It is messy, so goddamn messy, Bokuto is swiping his tongue back and forth and Kuroo does not hesitate to open his mouth for him.

He can’t help but to get caught up in this feeling, of Bokuto, of them together. He is biting down on the fat of Bokuto’s lip, laving his tongue over it, then releasing his lip with a wet  _pop!_ before pressing their mouths together once more. Until they’re running out of air, and Bokuto is pressing a hand to Kuroo’s chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of it and his racing heart underneath.

“I’m not complaining. Definitely not complaining but-” Bokuto’s grin is a little lopsided, his voice breathy, lips a bright cherry red. “-what was that for?”

Kuroo snorts. Runs his hand down the expanse of Bokuto’s arm then back up again, stopping at his bicep and squeezing.

“Training camp looks way too good on you.” 


	3. You Deserve to Know (its only fair)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenage hormones are rampant and because of that I have to give this a Teen rating because sometimes ya just accidentally dry hump your boo, y'know? 
> 
> Prompt for this was: "a hoarse whisper “kiss me""

Bokuto has this weird new habit lately. Or rather, its a trend, because it’s not like he’s doing it everywhere.

At first Kuroo thought it was just a regular bout of teenage hormones. Which…wouldn’t be too weird. He’s enough of a chemistry nerd to know what it is. Dopamine, phenylethylamine, adrenaline and an extra dose of testosterone. It happens. He knows this. Being a teenage boy himself and all.

It happens once and he doesn’t think twice about it. Happens a second time and he just goes with it. But the third time, thats when he starts to notice it.

It only ever happens right after matches too. Not Bokuto’s. But Kuroo’s own. Whether it’s practice matches, official matches, or even matches against Fukurodani itself - that’s when it occurs.

And it’s always the same thing. The match ends. Nekoma thanks the audience, shakes the other team’s hand and then they’re walking off the court. Pushing the volleyball cart. Chatting with each other. Just like how it always goes.

But then, of course. There is Bokuto. Standing in the hallway that goes back into the main building, right between the lockers and the gymnasium. He comes to his games when he can. For mutual support and all that and Kuroo appreciates it. A lot more than he lets on. But this is also when that little trend shows up and well…

Kuroo is not even in the locker rooms yet when Bokuto is snatching him up in the hallways. Away from the team. Lev eyes him innocently at Bokuto dragging him away and Yamamoto snickers under his breath all too knowing.

It’s the fifth time, the fifth time since this new little habit rears its head and Kuroo really isn’t complaining about it but still-

Bokuto’s already got him backed into the janitor’s closet, tripping over his feet, one hand splaying over his waist while the other pulls the door shut behind them. And Kuroo’s really not complaining because Bokuto’s nosing the dip of his collarbone, pressing little kisses on his neck - all trailing to his jaw, like a starving man and Kuroo really can’t complain cause  _god does it feel good_. Bokuto is nipping at his jaw, biting here and there, kissing the corner of Kuroo’s mouth but he’s not giving Kuroo what he wants. What he’s been building up to.

“Kiss me,” Bokuto says. Plain and simple. His voice is hoarse, barely heard over the sounds from the gym but Kuroo hears it. Feels it.

“What?” Bokuto’s been the one pushing  _him_  into the janitor closet, kissing all up and down  _his_  neck and now he’s asking? For Kuroo to kiss him?

Bokuto’s eyes are blown wide when he looks at him, there’s a devious quirk to his lips like he knows exactly what he wants. But the grip on Kuroo’s hips betrays that - fingers drumming on his skin, needy and impatient. He says it again. Like it’s absolutely obvious. “Kiss me,” his eyes dart to Kuroo’s lips then back to his eyes.

“Whats up with you? Keep ambushing me after matches, huh?” He presses their foreheads together but he doesn’t kiss him. Not yet. Not until he gets answers.

“I’dunno man it’s just, watching you on the court,” Kuroo slides a hand in band of Bokuto’s sweats, snapping the band, runs a hand up the center of his back and Bokuto takes a moment to revel in the attention. Lets his eyes slip close and an easy smile spread over his face. He starts again at the feel of Kuroo kissing his shoulder, nudging the fabric of his shirt away. “Watching you on the court, you out there, doing your thing - doing what you do  _best_. It’s really, really, really hot. You’re hot. Sexy.”

Kuroo snorts, right in between the junction of his neck and his collarbone. “No I’m not, I’m sweaty. And gross. And I actually need a shower.”

“Yeah but like, have you ever seen yourself out there? You look really good.” Bokuto slides his hand down his hip, to his thigh, pulling it up until Kuroo gets the gist and raises it for him. Wraps his leg around Bokuto’s waist as he runs his hand down the expanse over his skin, studying the powerful muscles that lay latent in the thigh and calf. “Anybody ever tell you really nice legs?”

Kuroo fixes him with a look, laughing softly. “Yeah, you.”

Kuroo doesn’t want to admit it but he’s preening under the attention. His skin is hot, cheeks and ears flushed a vibrant, angry red from the way Bokuto compliments him. From the way he looks at him, gaze heavy with a myriad of things. Adoration. Devotion. Passion. (Lust.) He lets Bokuto dig the bunt of his fingers into the thick of his thigh. Lets him trail his nails lightly down the skin, not scratching, but heavy enough to feel. Let’s Bokuto does whatever he wants to him. For him. He doesn’t really care. Never really has either.

From their position, with Bokuto hoisting up his leg, Kuroo’s is forced to lean back onto the wall behind them. But Bokuto is fisting a hand in his jersey, tugging it towards him and Kuroo with it. “When are you gonna kiss me huh?”

“I’ll pencil you in for next week. How about that?” He’s wiggling his fingers playfully where they’re latched onto Bokuto’s elbows and Bokuto pinches the inside of his thigh with an exaggerated frown on his face.

“How about next month? Would that be better?” He jokes, but his voice is rough and laced with a need that he can’t even deny himself. Already has his lips ghosting Bokuto’s, feels the curve of it on his.

Bokuto leans into him, restless. “Haha, very funny Tetsu,” he says dryly but Kuroo is already kissing him. Already giving him what he’s asked for. Never one to make someone wait for too long if he can help it.

Bokuto’s mouth is hot and heavy on his, lips slotting together with sloppy purpose. Kuroo is licking into his mouth, letting Bokuto lips capture his over and over again and there position isn’t exactly family friendly. Cause Bokuto makes the happy little mistake of pressing into Kuroo harder, grinding against him just a smidgen and the tiniest of moans escapes him. And Kuroo’s heart is ringing in his ears and his mind is racing a mile a minute cause the match is already over. The team is already packing up their things and they don’t actually need him anymore. Cause the way Bokuto is digging his fingers into Kuroo’s thigh is sure to leave some type of mark, especially if the way he melds their mouths is anything to go by so it really shouldn’t be a problem if he just - if they just -

“Can you two stop for just one second so coach can talk to Kuro.” Bokuto jolts back, releasing Kuroo’s lips with an audible pop at the sound of the muffled voice on the other side of the door and he’s looking at Kuroo with wild eyes and a sheepish grin.

And honestly, just his luck that when its already the weekend, when nobody really was supposed to notice his little disappearance that Coach Nekomata decides to have an actual conversation with the good ole Nekoma captain. Just his goddamn luck. “Tell em I’ll be right there,” Kuroo calls back, and he’s not even embarrassed, but damn, was the going getting really good too.

“Sorry Kenma!” Bokuto shouts over his shoulder and Kuroo doesn’t even need to see him to know that his friend is rolling his eyes hard as hell at them.

He thuds his head back on the wall with an annoyed groan and Bokuto eases his leg back on the ground. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes.

“No need,” Bokuto kisses him again. Chaste in the way goodbye kisses usually are. But then he’s staring Kuroo down with that look, one that he’s seen for a good several years now, one that only ever speaks trouble. “So… still up for penciling me in for next week?”

“How about I do you one better?” Kuroo says around a laugh, hears it ring around that tiny janitor’s closet, and shakes his head. “Lets do tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to be like 75 years old and going onto whatever the future version of tumblr/twitter is just to scream how much I love bokuroo for the millionth time. 
> 
> Thanks for reading lads, I surely do appreciate any comments/kudos you leave for me, they are.........how you say........a kick in the ass to motivate me to finish all 12,000 of my wips.


End file.
